Anonymous
by An Optimistic Liar
Summary: Lyre is a girl who never gave up on magic. When life isn't living up to what she had hoped it would be, what happens when she is sucked into a place where all her fantasies are true? What are the consequences? Because everything has a price. Right? OC R
1. Prolouge: The Ring Leader

**Hey there! Tis I! Optimistic Lier! **

**Well you see, I was looking around Eragon fan fictions, and was stunned by the fact of how short evreyone's chapters are. It was a "I thought mine were short! Holy crap..."... Well I come with longer chapters, and a decent fan fiction for m beloved Eragon... Anyways! Time for the disclaimer!**

**I don not own Eragon. And that is all**

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"You mean it's not possible?"

A young girl of with flaxen hair asked her her darker father as she sat on his knee. The girl was about 7 years old, and was wearing a puzzled expression as her father tried to explain to her, "Lyre girl..." he said, pausing as if he didn't know what to say. The little girl, whose name was Lyre squinted. He only used that nickname when he was either praising her, or when she had done something bad. The child was obviously confused. She didn't have a clue to if she had done something right, or if she had done something wrong. If it wasn't one or the other, than what could it possibly mean?

Being the type of person to always want an answer, she prodded him again, "Daddy? What do you mean magic isn't real?" she asked him, as her big green eyes grew larger, and her childish lips began to quiver.

The young man sighed, as he pushed back his brunette bangs from his face. A motion he did when he didn't have a clue as of what to do. He decided to take deep breath, and than continue what he was going to say, though it was with obvious reluctance. These were the times when he wished his departed wife was still there. She would have known exactly what to say. She always did.

"Lyre girl, I'm sorry to say it love, but the things you love the most; Fairies, dragons, wizards, and magic. They aren't real Lyre." He ended his speech louder than when he had started, finding confidence in his words. He didn't want to look down at his daughter though, he was afraid of her reaction._ Afraid of a little girl? _His conscious told him, _Don't tell me you're afraid of your own daughter? What it she? 6? _He rolled his eyes to no one but himself, and finnaly decided to look down at her.

Lyre sat still on his knee, staring intently at nothing at all, her little fingers up to her lips as if she were thinking. His face brightened for a moment. She looked like a tiny version of her mother. Fay used to look just like that when she was thinking. He was surprised though, Lyre was definitely acting older than the average 7 year old at the moment. The surprise was short lived though, because as soon as he thought of that, the spell broke and fat tears were spilling down her cheeks.

"B-b-but daddy!" she yelled quietly, "You said it was real!" she whined, and her frame shook with her withheld sobs. She turned her attention to her fathers silver eyes. All the confidence he thought he had shattered when she looked at him with her sad puppy dog orbs.

He sighed, and scratched the back of his neck nervously and continued "Well Lyre, there is magic." He paused for a moment" -Just not the magic you're thinking of." the shaking stopped, and her face was full of light once again, "Really!?" she asked quiet enthusiasm, silently wiping the streaked water from her face.

_How to make this right...?_ "Yes Lyre." He said, an idea sparking in his head, "Better than the magic you're thinking of." That got her interested. Her head perked up, an she smiled a little more. "What's it called daddy?" she asked him, obviously thrilled.

He tapped her nose, and smiled widely, "It's called love Lyre girl."

Lyre's face fell. "Love?" she asked him disappointed. "That's not magic." She finished dejectedly, but her father continued. "Do you know what love is Lyre?" he teased, raising his eyebrows high on his face. Lyre was about to say yes, but than paused. "No..." she said looking away from him, deciding not to meet his eyes.

"You love me, right?" he said to her, turning her face back to him with his by hooking his index finger on her chin. She nodded reluctantly. "And I love you, right?" she nodded again. Why was he asking such obvious questions? "We would do anything for each other, right?" he asked her again. She looked up to him with pouting lips, not even bothering to nod. "Well, isn't that magic?" he asked her gleefully.

Lyre paused, thinking it over again. "I... I guess it is!" she said, coming to a realization. She smiled merrily to her father, and told him "So there is magic, right!?" He nodded.

"Yes Lyre. Yes there is."

_-_-_-_

Name? Lyre Ellwood. Age? 16 years. Height? 5 feet, 7 inches. Weight? 126 pounds. Residency? This hell hole I'm supposed to call home.

"_Lyre_!" the woman's shrieks carried there way up to the rafters. My name, if you were paying attention, is Lyre. I'm the girl the fat hag is screeching for. The so called 'hag' is my aunt Adora. I live with her, the witches maid like husband, and her bastard of a son Carter. For those who wish to know, I'm currently hiding from my dearest auntie in the attic rafters. 5 stories above her. With my hands over my ears. Humming. Yet no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to drown out the noise of her howling all the way down on the first floor.

"Lyre!" she screamed again, her voice vibrating like a mosquito buzzing about someones ear. "Lyre, you get your tush down here!" My god, how I wanted to smack her flat like I could with a mosquito. _If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs. _I rolled my eyes, wondering why the poem came to my head at the moment. Some things I may never know.

I heard the muffled groan of the attics entrance stairs being pulled down, and the thump of it landing on the floor below. Carter reared his evil head from the hole, caught sight of me sitting high up in the rafters, and began to walk up the steps. This isn't Harry Potter everyone, so I will admit that Carter isn't a fat pig who gorges himself on everything in sight (I wish he was). He's just a moronic soccer jock who thinks he's better than everyone else. "Get down there, my ears are starting to bleed." he said in his cocky, 'I command you' voice.

I smiled angelically, "Oh yes, oh powerful one." I said mockingly, as I let myself fall to the attic floor, my long blond hair a white cloud around my face. I landed wrong, and my ankle started to sting badly, but I kept my face in line, convincing myself that it really didn't hurt at all.

He breathed our heavily, and his face showed that he was clearly miffed. "Lyre!" my face sunk. I though she had stopped calling for me. Carter started to smile poisonusly, as he said to me "Hurry up Cinderella. If you work fast enough, maybe you'll finally find a prince who'll give you some action?" he cackled evilly, and I immediately envisioned him in a dark cape, with bloody fangs. If this were a real fairy tale, Carter would be the vampire.

I trotted the length of the attic to the staircase. Before I descended into hell, I looked back at him, ready to insult, and realized I didn't have anything to say. Out of desperation, I stuck out my tongue and ran down the stairs. "Oh yeah!" he shouted while I ran away, "Make me something to eat while you're down there!" he hollered at me, with his mocking laugh soon following behind. When my teacher gave us a project to research our families names, ironically enough, Carter means cart driver in old English. Sadly, I would have to say that I'm the ox her drives.

I raced down the flights of stairs, wondering if I should try to make the time last longer and walk instead. I figured though, that the sooner I was there, the sooner whatever lyed ahead would be over.

Pictures littered the walls of the stairways, and I liked to stop to look at one in particular. It was a picture of my aunt and my father when they were younger. My dad had a dazed smile on his face, and aunt Adora was frowning slightly, as he was obviously trying to cheer her up. It made me wonder if aunt Adora had always been so bad natured. I looked away quick enough for my hair to smack my cheeks, and started to run down the steps again.

My father, Michael Ellwood departed when I was 10 years old, roughly 6 years ago, and my mother died in a car crash when I was only 3. Dad had died of a tumor in his brain, and was delirious in her later memories of him. I shook my head, trying to shake the memories away, much like an etch-a-sketch. "Lyre! If you're not down here in 30 seconds, I swear, you will be in _big_ trouble!" It was than Lyre burst through the kitchen door, almost out of breath from running so fast.

Her aunts sour face was contracted to the center of her profile, and looked like she had smelt something terrible, _and_ eaten something sour at the same time. Her dark brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her fat hung off her arms as they rested on her overly large hips. "Where the hell have you been for the past 10 minutes!?" she said loudly, her steely gray eyes looking at her without mercy. Lyre looked to the side, refusing to look her in the eyes, "It wasn't 10 minutes." she murmured defiantly.

Aunt Adora's nostrils flared unattractively as she raised the hand that held the mixing spoon in the air, "Why the hell would that matter!?" She said, and you guessed it, very, very loudly. "What matters is that you should have been here earlier!"

Lyre looked around the kitchen, and guessed why she was down here. Her aunt had probably tried, and failed, to cook. She finally looked to her, and flinched for a moment as she saw the spoon she waved in the air. The witch continued to lecture her over what a "disrespectfull twit" I was, and how I would be "A harpy, just like your brat of a mother". Lyre blocked her out for the few minutes of the woman's tirade, before going to her, and reaching out for the spoon. Auntie would be the evil witch.

The hag turned up her nose, and walked away, "Make something out of the stuff we have in the kitchen." she commanded, beforeshe walked out of the room. Lyre sighed, and put her fingers to her mouth, thinking of what to make. She didn't have to think for long, before Carter pushed in the swinging doors and sat right on one of the kitchenette chairs. "Make me some noodles. I have a game tomorrow." he said yawning lazily, leaning onto his arm. I rolled my eyes. "Yes, oh master."

_-_-_-_

Lyre jogged up the stairs with a plate full of steaming linguine. She turned on the 4th floor, and raced down the hall to her room. She kicked the door open for theatrics, and fell onto her bed while balancing her plate. "Finally..." she said tiredly, as she leaned up against her pillows. The room was plain, with white washed walls, a couple of pieces of furniture, and an abundance of sketches that were tacked on her wall. She guessed her aunt put her up here to show that she wasn't really apart of the family, because everyone else lived on the second floor. The fourth floor was all but empty. Lyre preferred it this way though. It was quieter.

She forked a mouthful of the pasta, and shoveled in in her mouth in a very unladylike manner. She felt the bed bounce a little when the cat named Mittens (Which she thought was a stupid name. Why not name it something cool, like Elvin for instance? That'swhat she called him anyways, so she guessed it didn't matter) jumped up, and cuddled with the side of her leg. She dangled a piece of noodle in front of him and waited for him to eat it. Mittens/Elvin didn't respond, and ignored the wiggling piece of food. "Stupid cat..." she grumbled as she dropped it into her own mouth,before beginning to stuff the rest of her food into her awaiting mouth.

When she was finished, she set the plate on her dresser that was next to her bed, that also served as her bedside table. She would put it away. Later. She jumped up, and scurried to her bookshelf on the far side of the wall. It was full of the books her father had bought her, and some she had bought herself (Auntie wasn't cruel. She was just indicant. Lyre had a steady allowance).

She pulled out one of her favorites. It was called _Eragon_, and had a picture of a jewel blue dragon on the front. She sighed. That was the world she wished she lived in. It was just like the stories her father used to weave for her imagination when she was younger.

She laid down on her bed, and began to read, Elvin laying neatly on her chest. She started loosing all track of time, before she started to drift off slowly...

_-_-_-_

When Lyre came back to her conscious, the world around her felt damp, and she could swore she could feel the sun on her face. _I must still be dreaming_, she told herself. _Yeah...__She must be dreaming_. She reached out to her stomach, and felt Elvin/Mittens soft fur between her fingers. _Was this part of the dream_?

Lyre bolted up, sending Elvin/Mittens sailing through the air. "Ah-ah-ah!" she shrieked in shock, before getting on all fours to crawl to Elvin through the damp foliage... _Foliage_?. "I'm sorry Elvin. Mittens. Cat." she said, not thinking of what else she could possibly be doing at that moment. She scooped Elvin into her arms, and warily stood up. Elvin and herself were not in her room. That was certain.

All around her was a bright forest, that reminded her way to much of 'The Lord of the Rings'. The light was shining through the gigantic tree top's, and a few scattered Autumn leaves littered the ground. This was not home. This was not Oregon. Not at all.

"Holy crap." she whispered, as she looked around them. "Where the hell are we Elvin?" she said as she looked around in wonder. The cat mewed, and that was the only answer Lyre got got from him.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore Toto." she said, not knowing anything else that could possibly say in that situation.

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**This is where you tell me your opinion. Hey, click the lavander button! You can do it! You can do it! ...Do it or I slit your neck.**

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	2. The Dragon Rider

**Chapter two of my story O.O **

**I hope everyone who bothers to read it likes it. I thought it was fun to write, even if it is painful to stay awake. Anyways... I gotta go now... Slowly... Falling... Asleep.... -_-**

**I don't own Eragon. Don't sue me. Or Alice and Wonderland.**

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Even though Lyre was still in slight shock of what had just happened to her, Elvin on the other hand, was not. Lyre griped the poor cat's body fiercely, holding him close to her chest. As a reflex action, she squeezed him even closer.

The cat yelped and chomped down hard on her arm. "Gah!" she screamed, letting him fall to the forest floor "Holy crap, you stupid cat! Was that necessary!?" She screamed down at him, scaring the crows that were resting in the tree, making them caw in that ugly screeching noise as they flew up into the sky in a mass of black.

Elvin hissed at her, before slinking off into the distance, deeper into the forest. "Where the hell do you think you're going!?" she said, calling after him "Hey! Come back! You can't just leave me here!" She said while jogging after him. Lyre caught him and scooped him back into her embrace. The cat mewed as if nothing had happened, and cuddled into her collar bone. She frowned, "I'm bleeding because of you." She murmured, "Don't think you're getting off to easily." She said, now sounding a little bit apathetic.

She sighed, and closed her eyes, keeping one hand over her wound. _What the hell was going on?_ She opened them again, before looking down at the cat. "This is weird Elvin." She said to him. "**You** do something." She said in a commanding voice, making her feel a little like Alice in Wonderland. Talking to a cat… "Doesn't your name mean elf friend, or something? Round up some of those, and get them to help us home." She said, directing it more to herself than the cat.

Lyre looked to her right, and noted a small creek that bubbled through the forest floor. She looked down to Elvin. "Should we follow the creek?" She questioned him. "They always say it leads to civilization." Lyre said, informing him with a smile. She figured if she was having such a cool dream, that she should play along with it. Perhaps if she knew she was a imagining it, she could start to lucid dream. That would make things interesting…

Cat in arm, she started to follow the water, skipping rocks across the placid surface whenever she found a stone smooth enough to make the trip. After a good hour and a half, something told her that this must be the most boring dream in history. _All I'm doing is walking along a creek. That isn't exciting at all_.

She yawned, and decided to lie down on the creek's pebble beach.

Once down, she looked up to Elvin who was curled up next to her head. "Why are you here Elvin?" she asked him. He looked down at her lazily, and flicked his tail in her face. She giggled, before interrupting her laughing with another yawn. Elvin yawned with her. "Weird cat… There isn't any reason for you to be in my boring dream…" she mumbled, before she eyelids grew heavy, and her mind once again felt fuzzy.

_-_-_-_

When she woke up, she felt warm. Did she finally wake up, and Carter had selfishly turned up the heat up to 90 degrees? She groaned. No one ever gets mad at perfect Carter. "Stupid Carter…" she mumbled tiredly, before she realized there were crickets in the background. Crickets didn't live in rich suburbia.

"I think she's coming around." She heard a boy say, as he laughed slightly. She felt fingers flit across her forehead soothingly. "Good thing too-" She heard a deeper, older voice say to him. "I was thinking we might have to leave her behind." He said apathetically. As soon as he said it, a growl was heard, and her whole world seemed to vibrate. The older man chuckled at the source, and than she didn't hear anything else but the crackling of the fire.

She groaned again. Her body was stiff; as if she had taken a lot more than just a nap, and had slept longer than a few minutes like she had planned too. She slowly opened her eyes, and said groggily, "Where the hell am I?"

She propped herself up on her forearms, and looked around her. Directly in front of Lyre was an older man with graying hair, sitting cross legged by a fire pit. He looked fierce enough to leave a poor damsel such as herself behind. He probably wasn't joking around either. Now that she thought of it he reminded her of that really horrid old man who used to live by her fathers apartment when he was still alive. I think that man died of a heart attack.

Standing beside the old man, like he had just walked there, and was startled she had woken up already, was a young man. He was probably a year or two older than she was, and sadly reminded her of a brunette Carter. Hopefully he wasn't as evil and vampiric as the evil cousin himself.

They both stared at her for a moment, and Lyre guessed she must look funny or something of the likes, because they didn't look away for a long while "Are you okay?" The boy finally asked her, though very slowly. She lightened a little bit. Perhaps he would be a better natured version of Carter.

She changed her expression, to one that looked like he had sprouted a second head, before answering rudely, "Do I look like I'm okay?" with an angry and annoyed tone. She moved her hand over to where her cat wound should be, and found it bandaged with cloth that had probably been ripped for this occasion. The older man found her sarcasm funny, and threw his head back in loud, chortling laughter. When he finally stopped snickering at her, he focused his attention on her once again; he began to speak "This one has a mouth on her." He said with a mocking smile. She frowned, not liking the teasing, and about ready to fight back. That is, before she caught sight of something she should have seen a long, **long** time ago.

She shrieked horrifically, and scrambled backwards crab style, when she saw the giant beast that was at her right. "What the hell is that!?" she screamed, when she clumsily hit her head against a tree ("Ah!") with the obvious conclusion that she couldn't crawl any farther away. The old man laughed again, "That young lady; is a dragon."

She gawked at it for a moment, "It looks more like an over sized lizard to me." She whispered, not knowing what else to say. The dragon growled at her, and Lyre squeaked in response. Common sense said not to get the big scaly thing mad at you.

The old man sighed, "Seeing as you're awake, I might as well tell you who we are." He said, "That is, if I can trust you not to tell anyone." He added darkly. Lyre glanced at him for only a moment, before turning her gaze back to the dragon. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever." She said quickly, before tearing her full attention away from the over sized lizard, and onto him. This was not easy in the slightest.

The man nodded, and told her, "I want you to repeat after me. Sound for sound." She nodded again. He could have asked her to dance naked with that fire breathing thing on his side.

"Now start after me, Eka weohnata." She repeated his every sound, just like he had asked. "Jitja hljödhr abr." She repeated the words again, curious as to what she was saying. "Ono, Brom, du skulblaka Saphira." His sentences were getting longer, but she followed along as best as she could, hoping he wouldn't sick the dragon on her. "Un du Shur'tugal Eragon." He finished, with her repeating the last words with him. "That's good." He said, before turning to the Carter look alike, "Eragon, I hope you were paying attention to that."

That's when Lyre froze. Eragon? From the book Eragon? She remembered the words he had asked her to repeat. The ancient language!? And that dragon!? She looked wildly to the blue scaled beast. She even recognized the names in the might-have-been spell! Eragon, Brom, Saphira. Had he just made her promise something? Well that was a question with an obvious answer, but this one isn't…What had she done!? Oh my god… this was way to ironic.

Brom looked at her and asked one of those stupid questions that pissed her off, "What's wrong?" she looked over at him. What's wrong? I just found a dragon rider! He's right in front of me. There is a dragon in my presence! They're not even supposed to be real! "What did you just make me say!?" Lyre said vehemently. "What did I just do!?" she asked him again.

He answered her question seriously, "I have just made you swear in the ancient language that you would not reveal us to anyone." Lyre put her hand over her heart in a relieved way, and let out a deep breath. "Thank god." She said slowly. For all she knew, she could have just sworn fealty to them. That would suck (I know they're supposed to be the good guys and all, but really now? Fealty!?).

This is when Eragon decided to cut in. You know, Eragon? **The**. The Eragon of the dragon riding variety, of course. "Who are you?" he asked her, almost rudely. She paused. This was a really weird, messed up dream. But what if it wasn't? What if this was all real? Did she really want to give them her name? "Fay." She told them, without even bothering to think of it. "My name's Fay." It seemed fitting enough though. If she was to use a different name, than why not use that of her mothers?

Brom nodded, "Why are you here Fay?" he asked her. She wondered why they hadn't interrogated her earlier. What were they thinking? Letting a strange girl come along with them? Lyre decided it would be wisest to play dumb, and make something up as she went along. Just in case.

"I don't know." She said to them, pretending like she really didn't have a clue. "The last thing I remember is walking along the creek with my cat Elvin." She said slowly, thinking over each word carefully. Where was Elvin anyways? "And before that… I don't know." She told them, trying to convince herself that she really didn't have a clue (Which was hard considering her Eldora's/ her own cat was missing).

Eragon's face looked interested as he inquired her once again, "You don't know?" he asked her. What a idiotic question, she thought to herself. She shook her head quickly, not feeling the need to answer with words. Eragon looked at her with an outlandish expression, as if he were trying to look through her. Which was weird enough on its own, but really now, what was that about? She reflected on it, while also trying to remember all she knew about this world.

Brom investigated her this time, "Do you know anything at all? Like where you live, or in which direction you come from?" He said while registering her clothes (Blue jeans and a T-Shirt t, thank you very much).She listened to him, and realized that she didn't even know what part of the books world she was in, let alone what time. "No. I don't." she told him, making her voice sound like she was sorry she didn't know. "Where…Where in the world are we anyways?" she asked him, making her eyes grow larger as she looked at him questioningly.

Brom paused, thinking it over before answering her. "We're in the middle of the spine. We're heading to the city of Teirm." He told her, "Have you ever heard of Teirm?" Lyre almost felt bad for lying right than. Now that he thought she didn't have her memory, he was beginning to be kinder towards her. As in he wasn't laughing at her. Or maybe he just wanted to get rid of her really fast. That was probably it. "No idea." She said to him, raising her eyebrows. "Where's Teirm?" Brom looked at her with a mystic stare. That's when she realized what they were doing. Couldn't magic users get into peoples heads!?

"Teirm is by the ocean." He told her flatly, breaking her concentration, "Are you sure there isn't anything you don't know?" That's when she guessed that perhaps they couldn't read her mind. Was it impossible to avoid it? Didn't they say you had to concentrate on something extremely hard enable to block someone? Than again, they did say that some people of higher class could block out someones mind raid. Perhaps that was it, and she was imagining his stares.

Under normal circumstances she would have though he was trying to decipher her speech. She was sure her west coast accent wasn't normal here in Alagesia. She nodded once again, and he seemed annoyed that she didn't speak. Perhaps he really couldn't read her mind, so he was reading her speech. Well than… That would take a while.

"Well. Than what are we going to do with you?" he said, chewing it over in his head. "I… don't know." She realized. She looked down at the ground dejectedly, and than back at Saphira.

After really looking at her, she realized what a magnificent animal (Or whatever you would call her). she was. Though not exactly something she would want as a pet. Saphira looked thoughtful herself, as if she were thinking about it too, trying to contribute to their brain power. Eragon was staring at her intently. She suddenly remembered that they were probably telepathically talking with each other, like they did in the books.

What **were** they going to do with her? What was she supposed to do here? Wait until she woke up? She discarded that (She had a feeling she might not be dreaming, and she was just waiting for herself to go into shock). She couldn't drag them down with her. They had things to do, countries to save, evil kings to overthrow.

She could only think of one possibility, and it freaked her out.

"Perhaps you could take me to Teirm. Maybe I'll regain my memory, and find my way from there." She told them, offering them a worthwhile answer. Brom nodded, "We'll try that one first." He told her. "And than we'll see what we can do from there."

"For now though, I think we should all get some rest." He said to everyone. Eragon looked at her suspiciously, before he guessed that she wasn't something to be afraid of. What was there to be afraid of? Oh yes… The theory they couldn't break into her mind. Was it normal among people to have mind blocks? **There** was something that would keep her up all night. As if she could sleep anyways, considering how long she had been out. Speaking of that…how long **had** she been unconscious?

Brom decided to ignore everyone, as he turned to his side, and covered himself with a worn, traveled blanket. Eragon strode over to Saphira, who lifter her wings like a curtain, beckoning him inside. The lucky bastard. I bet it's warm in there. Lyre laid down also, her face looking up to the sky and all the stars that resided in it. Sleeping time was thinking time.

First was first, and that was the fact that they were going to Teirm. Perhaps when she got there, she could find somewhere to stay. A family to stay with until she returned home maybe. Or something like that... Her conscience told her that she might be here forever though.

What if she was here forever? Even if she had only been here for who know how long, it seemed a hell of a lot better than where she was used to. Maybe she would prefer to stay here. Maybe she could make her own life in this world?

It wasn't like she was missing anything back at home. She didn't have any friends at home, for reasons like the fact that she was **kind of weird**. Also she was pretty anti-social. She just found people stupid. Perhaps when people were near starvation, they acted better. Scratch that. They probably couldn't act much worse though. Spoiled conceited brats… Like Carter.

Ah ha. Anyways, what about the theory they can't get into her mind? Why were they helping her anyways? Maybe it was because Brom was an almighty spell caster from above. She wasn't much of a threat anyways. Perhaps they planned on dumping her. She tossed the ideas around in her head, and waited for sleep to take over.

That's when she heard a lazy "Mreow" from the other side of the so called camp. "Elvin!" she whispered cheerily, as she saw him prance out of the shadows. The grey cat looked warily at the sleeping dragon, but decided against staying away. He crawled up to her, and nestled his furry body in the crook of her neck. "Good cat." She said sleepily, before she once again fell asleep.

_-_-_-_

Lyre woke up at the crack of dawn. It was normal though. She had always been a morning person, which wasn't always good. She couldn't stay awake past 10 at night, and it bothered her to no end. She pushed back fraying blanket away from her body, and held Elvin on her arm, hanging like wet sheets.

The fire was all but gone, and only a few embers stood in the snowy ashes. She grabbed a stick from besides her makeshift sleeping bag, and started to poke it aimlessly. The ashes sputtered in response, and started to grow larger. Across from her, Brom stirred, and uttered a small groan. He turned himself over, and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Wake up early, did you?" he asked her gruffly, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. She shook her head, and said with a tired voice of her own "No. I just woke up a moment ago." She yawned, and continued to play with the burned out ashes.

"That your cat." He said, jerking his head at her feet, where Elvin rested lazily. She nodded, "His name is Elvin." She told him, her voice sounding a bit more confident now that she was fully awake. He nodded, "Good name." he told her, before roughly pushing his own covers up.

"Eragon-" He said towards Saphira. "Are you going to lie in their all day, or are you going to get up and get goin'?" he said bellowed loudly. Saphira opened a large azure eye, and opened her wings. Eragon sleepily crawled out, and headed to the ashes.

_-_-_-_

Brom had cooked them all a sort of stewed concoction. She gratefully crammed the rim of the clay bowl between her lips, and ate it without grace. Both Eragon and Brom chuckled at her obvious lack of manners. She wiped her mouth with her arm, and looked over to them and said"I'm sure there's more you want to ask me." tilting her head ever so slightly. She heard Saphira give a low growling noise that she assumed was a laugh, and heard Brom mumble something along the lines of "Straight the point, isn't she?"

Eragon took the opportunity, "I know you don't remember much, but what are you wearing?" he said, looking to her clothes. Lyre scrunched her nose, and plucked at the ends of her hair. "Cloths." She told him, figuring that was all she could stay.

"That'll be a problem in Tierm. I'm guessing we'll have to buy you some skirts and hand them to Fay before she enters." He said, looking down on her dark blue jeans, and forest green T-Shirt. Lyre nodded. That would be best, _When in Rome, do as the Romans do_.

The 4 of them all ate, and drifted into comfortable silence.

_-_-_-_

After everyone had eaten and packed up camp, they were ready to go. Eragon mounted his own chocolate mount, and Brom hefted himself onto his own (Very gracefully for an old man I must add). I looked to both of them, and asked "What? Am I supposed to walk or something?" I asked with a grimace. Walking would not be fun.

Brom chuckled, "No. You'll be riding with Snow fire and me." He said, holding out his hand. Well, that ruined the '_Prince on a white horse'_ thing. Instead it was _'Old man on a cool looking steed_. Isn't that Great? At least he wasn't an ugly, gross, pedophile man. At least she didn't think he was… The only problem now was that I'd never ridden a horse. Well, there's was a first time for everything I suppose…

I grabbed his hand, and imagined I was hoisting myself onto the attic rafters. Thankfully, I landed gracefully, and without a problem. I have to admit, it felt good to do it perfectly on the first time. "Ready than?" he asked us, as he lead the beautiful white horse into a trot.

It was much bumpier than a car. It smelled worse too. Either way, I kind of liked it. If you block out the old man, and pretend you're leading it yourself, it's very enjoyable…

I laced my fingers into Snow fires mane and rubbed his neck. "How far is Teirm?" she asked him after a long while. He cleared his throat, and said with a worn voice "We'll be there before sunset." She nodded. She understood that they would be riding for a long time, and by the end of the day her butt was going to be really, really sore.

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**Did you know the button is actually blue!? I didn't O_O**


	3. The Herbalist

**Look! We're at chapter 3! Good Job! -pats self on the back-**

**I don't own Eragon in any way, shape, or form. At least, I don't think I do. You never know...**

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They rode for a long while, the ever present fog in the valley below. She sighed, this reminded her of Oregon more than she wished it would. Stupid Fog. She hated it. It reminded her of soggy toast and damp clothes.

Suddenly a sea breeze blew away the dense mist, and the city was revealed. The white stone gates of Tierm were in sight, and the sun looked like it would stay in the sky for an hour or two more. Lyre didn't know. She wasn't one of those granola people who knew everything about nature and the likes. She didn't know if she really wanted to be that type of person, but it seemed unavoidable now.

The cities walls were monstrously thick, and the walls were taller than… Taller than a lot of things actually. It small holes (More like slits from this far away) for arrows, and the roofs all looked the same, and seemed to melt into each other. The only clear thing was a giant castle. Huge; Unbelievably so. It was mind boggling that she was seeing an actual castle. That was in use. But when it came to overall inspection of the city, it seemed a little depressing. Like living with your parents for your whole entire life. Too protected.

Saphira was forced to fly in the night, and rest in the day, so she wasn't with them when they first pulled up to the cliff that hung above Tierm. The city wasn't what one would call glamorous (Or was it?). Yet it interested her all the same. Set by the glimmering grey blue ocean, the town looked like something from a medieval fairy tale.

Eragon was mesmerized by the sparkling water, and couldn't tear his eyes away from the foamy surf. "Amazing." He murmured in awe, "Don't you think Fay?" he said, turning is attention to her.

It **was **beautiful, but she had seen the ocean almost every day of her life, "It looks a lot like an over sized puddle to me." She told him, shielding her eyes from the sun. She pointed to the ships that waved in the dock, "Those big ships could be the leaf boats that I made when I was little." She told him, turning her gaze from the water to Eragon.

He smiled, "I think they're a little bigger than leaves." He said jokingly. She shrugged, she didn't care who appreciated her amazing imagination or not. Well, she did, but that wasn't the point.

"Here" Brom said, pulling out a giant bundle of cloth from the bottom of the bag. She inspected the budle for a moment, expecting something cool to happen. Like a fairy popping out or something. She shook it out, and was amazed with the length. Lyre found herself holding a dark green cloak with woven clasps. "Yours?" she asked (It was long enough). He nodded. That was good. She was just a few inches shorter than him, and it would only graze the ground when she wore it.

"When you got to Tierm, I don't want people staring at your odd garments." He said looking at her converse, "Flimsy shoes too. We'll get you something better." She ignored the insult, and held the cloak on her arm. She rested her fingers on the edge of her lips, "You make me feel like a shamed daughter." She told him, shaking her head.

He chuckled, "You'd be a fairy queen if it wasn't for that monstrous mouth of yours." He said to her. She frowned and ran her fingers though her ash blond hair (She wanted a shower). "Not really." She commented. She wasn't much of a looker.

He ignored her and started to unpack the saddle bags (Elvin jumped out when he opened the flap), "Let's get unpacked for the night." He told them. "Eragon, go get us some dry wood." He told him as he pulled out a matchbox.

_-_-_-_

The next morning we left Saphira on the cliff, and headed down to Tierm. Our horses (With us on top obviously.) trotted up to what I was told was the southern gate. Two lazy looking pike men slouched at the gate. This city was doomed.

I sat on the brown horse (Cadoc) in front of Eragon (Brom, I'm guessing, was playing part as an old man atop of Snow Fire). My dark green hood draped modestly over my head, and my covered lap and feet as I rode side saddle in the front. They got closer, and Eragon said with amazement "How big is this place?"

"Larger than any city you've ever seen." Brom told him.

As they drew nearer, the guards straightened their backs_. Lazy fools_, she thought silently. She laughed silently at herself. She was already playing her part, thinking in such a medieval way. "Wha's yer name?" asked the taller one absent mindedly.

"I'm called Neal." Brom told them, changing his voice to that of an older man, and leaning to the side like a person without balance. He smiled idiotically, and Lyre had to suppress a smiled.

"Who'r the other ones?" asked the other guard.

"Well I wuz gettin to that. Er' name is Ella, n' the taller one'd be Evan. They'd be m'sisters children. The boy ain't much of er…"

The guard cut him off with impatience, "Yeah, yeah. What's yer business eer'?"

Eragon was the one to talk this time, "He's visitn' and old friend, "Lyre smiled. She was enjoying these accents they were putting on. "I'm along t' make sure he don't get lost, if yeh' get m'meanin sir. He ain't as young as he used to be- had a bit too much when he was young'r. Touch o' the brain fever y' know." Brom nodded with that same stupid grin.

"Right. Go on through," the guard told us. "Just make sure he don't cause any trouble." He said tiredly.

"Oh, he won't." Eragon told him reassuringly as her urged Cadoc into the gates.

When they were farther in, Brom growled and sat up normally, "Touch of brain fever, eh?" Eragon laughed, and said teasingly "I couldn't let you have all the fun." Lyre giggled with him, "Exceptional acting." She said quietly as they trotted through the throng of people.

Lyre had guessed correctly. The place **was** depressing. Everything was made as if they all expected it to explode at any moment. Stone and slate, narrow and deep doors. She wondered if they had had a recent war or something.

"This place looks ready for a war." Eragon said, asking exactly what she was thinking.

Brom expertly explained the city's protection. Lyre listened intently, hanging on to every word. The defenses were very interesting, and she wished he would speak about it longer.

They pulled into an old building with cracked walls, and pushed open the lousy doors. A woman with crazy graying hair (Like she'd never combed it before) and glazed eyes (Like she was a trippy drug addict) jumped up from behind her counter when she heard them enter. The woman twitched nervously as she opened her arms in a (supposedly) friendly gesture. "Welcome! Welcome!" she crowed happily, "How may I serve you?" she said, her voice making her uneasy. It reminded her of the metal of her pencil grating against her papers when the eraser had run out.

"A coat for the dashing young man, perhaps a cape for you sir!" she said, inching her way up to Brom and Eragon. Brom shook his head, and pointed to me, "I would like you to find a dress for my niece Ella." He said to her.

I pulled off my hood, my hair frizzing back with it. She cackled, and smiled with yellowing teeth. "Yes, yes, I will, and than you will tell all of your friends to see Aunty Melanie, right?" She said, walking to me and putting a hand on my shoulder. My skin crawled where she touched me, and I forced myself not to pull away from her grasp.

She turned to Brom, "There is though… A price." She said, fingering my shoulder gently. Ugh… At of all the people to touch creepily in the room, it has to be me. Why not go touch Eragon or something!?

Brom nodded, "Of course." He said, promising her of the money she would earn. The twitching woman smiled, her disgusting teeth revealing themselves to everyone (I'm sorry, but…I can't think nice in this situation). She hurried to the back of the shop, and pushed back a dank curtain.

She came back with a basketful of clothing. She shoved the basket into my arms, and scurried over to converse with Brom. I picked through it, glad that the readily made clothes were washed. The woman might have been disgusting, but she had brought things that were in Lyre's size.

She held up a chocolate brown skirt, and held it against her waist. That would work. She fingered through the rest of them, and picked out a fawn colored tunic. That worked too. She turned to the grinning woman, and said politely "These will be fine." She looked over to me with calculating eyes, before snapping her head back to Brom and cheerily relaying to him how much it would cost.

He pulled out the amount of coins he owed, and shoved it into her hands. "Would you mind if she changed back there?" he said, motioning with his head to the curtain. The woman cackled, and said that it would be fine with her.

Lyre trudged into the back room, and quickly undressed her old clothes, and redressed in her new (Yet old) ones. Thankfully it all fit well, and she was happy for the change of clothing. As she hooked the moss green cloak onto her throat, the crazy woman entered the room.

Lyre shrieked when she looked back and saw the woman behind her. _Creepy woman_…She thought silently. The lady (Whom she now remembered was probably named Melanie) handed her a pair of leather boots, string, and a woven belt. "Your uncle told me to give this too you." She said gruffly, pushing it into her hands (Only nice to the dashing old men, eh?).

Lyre nodded, and turned away. She took the woven belt and tightened it around her waist, lacing it in a spot were it could rest on her hips. She than sat on the mulched wooded floor, and pulled the boots up high, reaching all the way up to her knees. She flipped all of her ash blond (It's real) hair that she had grown out to her waist (She always forgot to get a haircut, plus Adora wouldn't ever pay for it, but she managed to cut her bangs across her face for connivance's sake) to one side of her shoulder, and began to plait it into one large braid, She stood up, and straightened everything out, smoothing down her skirt and cloak, before entering the main room once again.

She leaned on the door frame, and crossed her arms, "Am I now worthy of being called presentable?" She asked them sourly. Without the woman (Melanie) in the room, there wasn't any need for her to be gentle young lady any longer.

Brom nodded as he looked her over, "That will do."

Melanie-the-creepy-woman came out of another curtained door way, and smiled sickeningly at Brom, "Do you really have to go?" she asked him seductively, in a cow like voice. Lyre covered her giggles under her palm. She almost felt sorry for the Melanie. How horrible would it be to have a bad personality, and horrible looks? She looked her over, and concluded that she had once been decent though.

Brom bowed his head, and smiled kindly "I'm afraid we have a busy schedule to keep." He told her as Eragon backed out of the room, Brom following close behind. "Bah!" the woman said angrily as Lyre slunk over to the exit, "Every time!" she mumbled, throwing her hands over her head angrily.

Lyre had had enough. This was much too weird, for even her. She scuttled out the door, running into Eragon back/neck area. "Oof…" she groaned as she rubbed her nose. She stopped to look at them both. "Where are we going now?" she asked them as she pulled herself onto Cadoc.

"To find information." Brom said as he urged Snow fire on.

_-_-_-_

"Put your hood on Fay." Brom grunted as they stepped into a Tavern. A rickety sign named it "The Green Chestnut". Lyre pulled her long braid over her shoulder, and pulled the hood over her head.

She understood the moment she entered the bar. It was dingy, and didn't feel right at all. People tucked themselves into corners, and the fire wasn't burning brightly like she had expected it would. Lyre played with the tip of her braid nervously as they stepped up to the bartender, who was polishing a broken glass.

No wonder her hood was up. She barely wanted to walk around in the grimy room, let alone let the grubby men look at her. The people disgusted her. But than she realized how pompous that sounded. These people were poor. And from the looks of the town, she would bet they were probably depressed too. She bit her tongue, hoping that would pay penance for her rudeness. And now she sounded morbid. Great, just great.

She decided to ignore herself (For her own personal safety), and listen to Brom conversation with the bartender. He asked about a man named Jeod, and the guy's whereabouts (The information came for a price of course). He seemed to age before her eye, seeming more and more depressed by the disheartening new of what she suspected was the one they were looking for. The bartender directed them to the herbalists shop if they wanted to find the Jeod person.

This Jeod man seemed like he had a bleak life.

_-_-_-_

A woman with tightly curled hair stood on a stool outside of the herbalists shop, holding a toad in one hand, and writing leisurely with the other. Brom spoke a few words with Eragon, who was wondering which house he could possibly live in_. Why not just knock on both_? She thought as she stroked Elvin's head. The stupid cat didn't want to settle in the saddle bags anymore.

He walked to the woman, and asked politely, "Could you tell us which house Jeod lives in?"

"I could." She said as she continued to write. Lyre snorted, knowing that this was how she normally acted, Brom could be standing here awhile.

"Will you tell us?" He asked her. Lyre smiled. Wrong question old man.

"Yes." She said as she continued to write feverishly. It was silent for a while, and Lyre could sense the pressure building in Eragon. "Of course I'll tell you!" she blurted, "All you had to do was ask. Your first question was whether or not I could tell you. Your second was if I would!" she said, explaining all that had just happened.

"Let me ask properly." He said while smiling. She guessed he secretly wanted to rip her throat out. "Which house is Jeod's? Also, why are you holding a frog?" Good job old man! One point for Brom.

"There we go!" she said encouragingly, "Jeod's house is over there, on the right. And this frog? He's actually a toad. I'm trying to prove toads don't exist. I want to prove that there are only frogs." She said as she held him up. Elvin hissed hysterically, and Lyre thought he might have been having a seizure.

"How can toads not exist if you're holding one in your hands right now?" Eragon asked, clearly not understanding what she was talking about. "What good would it do if toads didn't exist anyways?"

The woman shook her bouncing curls, and lectured him about how it would make a better society, something about poison, and teeth falling out, blah, blah, blah. Brom slyly agreed (Trying to get away are you?), "I see. But we really must be off to Jeod." He wished her a good day, and Eragon and Brom walked off to the house on the right. Lyre watched them leave. She stayed behind to talk to the odd woman.

"Toads do exist." She told the woman.

She looked up, "And what makes you think that?" she asked her, raising her eyebrow.

"Because when I was little I used to have a pet toad named Muddle." She told her, ready to explain.

"And what if Muddle was really was a frog? We'll know soon when I find out if they really exist." She told her, before scribbling down some more notes.

"I used to have frog too. But he died earlier. My father said it was because frogs had to stay in water, and they couldn't be away for more than a few hours or the dry up. He said toads didn't have to be in the water at all." She said, walking closer to her, looking down at the notes.

The woman stopped writing for a moment, and paused. She looked up, "Really?" she said, thinking it over. "What's your name?" she asked her, looking at her curiously. "Fay." She said, giving the answer naturally after using the name for a while.

"Really?" she asked her. Lyre fingers went to her lips. What did this woman know? Did she guess she was lying? Were crazy people the only one's to see reality like some people say they did!?

She brought her hand away from her face, and lifted back her hood, "My name is Lyre." She said this time, feeling that she was able to trust this woman (That doesn't sound like a death wish…). She looked sternly at the woman, wondering how she could have seen through her.

The herbalist smiled, "Good. If memory serves me correctly, there can't be two Fay's. The other one is long gone…" she said, prattling along to herself. Now Lyre was confused. Two? What was the woman talking about?

"What do you mean?" she asked her. This lady was starting to get on her nerves. Just answer the question. It's not that hard. The woman looked up at her, surprised, "Huh?" she said, her pitch getting high. The woman smiled (Like nothing had just happened, of course), "What's with the sour face? My name is Angela, it's nice to meet you Lyre." She said happily, as she set the toad/frog down on a table beside her.

"Fay!" She heard Eragon call her name from the house beside the store. Lyre nodded to the woman, "Sorry, I need to go." She told her hurriedly as she started to walk away.

"Come by when you have time!" Angela said, calling after her.

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	4. The Merchant

**Sorry I havn't updated. I... Forgot? No, I'm grounded ^^**

**So chapters won't be churning out like crazy. Sorry **

Eragon guided her to the door where Brom stood impatiently. 'Fay' pulled up her hood, tired of feeling the pelting heat of the sun on the back of her head. An older man appeared at the open door. He wore rich looking fabric, and a loose jacket, a slim sword resting on his belt. The man looked down to her (He was tall), and she noted a slender scar that ran across his scalp. It looked painful. He looked to Brom, who examined his clothes disapprovingly. They did look a little overdone. The man shrugged like there wasn't anything else he could have possibly done in his situation.

So this was Jeod.

He started to walk in the direction of the castle, all of them following in suit. Eragon lead the horses, and Elvin was sleeping peacefully in Lyre's arms. She looked around the busy streets, and took in everything with silent eyes.

Tall young men with shining hair rode with straight backs upon proud stallions. A group of ragged underfed children laughingly chased a wildly bleating goat into an alley, causing a woman who was selling her wares on the street to shriek unkind words at the vagabonds. Inside the alleyway, a woman sat on the windows ledge, stringing her dripping garments on a clothes line 3 stories above ground level. It was loud, crazy, and smelled a little like an unwashed bathroom.

She kind of liked it here.

She looked over to Eragon, who was unashamedly eyeing everything with a gaping mouth. The Jeod man babbled to Brom about the cities leader Risthart, and the extra precautions he went through with merchants.

They went through the main gate of the fortress. Once they were in the keep, Jeod told Eragon to tether the horses up. Eragon dutifully tied them to the iron ring, and Jeod slid a sliver key into the entrances key hole.

They entered the long hallway. It was narrow, and she hated the damp feeling of being stuck between the grimy stones. The only light they had was from the torches that lined their way, making their shadows dance on the on the dark gray walls. Lyre frowned. This was all unbelievably realistic.

Jeod grabbed a torch, and they made their way down. After a while, he unlocked a large and heavy wooden door, and led them into a room lined with books. Lyre felt a bubble of excitement when she saw the hoard of leather bound volumes. Jeod threw in some logs, and tossed the torch onto the wood. The fire made the room seem less cold and distant than it did before. Lyre took a step onto the bear skin rug, and for the first time that day, wished that she didn't have any shoes on.

"You, old man, have some explaining to do." Brom said, a smile dawning on his face.

Brom and Jeod spoke like old friends, conversing with each other teasingly. She smiled. She had always thought of Bromas a rude old man who didn't give a damn about anything.

Lyre scrunched her eyebrows for a moment. What was she talking about? She had read the books. She knew what he was all about. Well most of it, she had only read the first book. She realized though, that the more she thought of it, the more the details of the story became hazy. What was going on? Was she getting so immersed in the story line, that she was forgetting what reality was? She would think about it later though. Right now she should focus on the conversation.

"-what we were doing in Gil'ead?" Brom said, Lyre catching only part of the sentence

"Yes. Of course. That sort of thing is hard to forget." Jeod replied.

"When we were…" Brom paused, thinking for a word "Separated. In the midst of the turmoil-"Brom went on to describe what had happened to him. Lyre frowned. None of it made sense. It was smothered in code, and each sentence was half baked. She saw Eragon tense up. He had no idea what they were talking about either.

She looked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. She gave him a look that told him not to do anything rash, or something he might regret later. They were keeping secrets for a reason. He nodded to her, and looked away. She rolled her eyes. Boys were all the same.

She than noticed Jeod inspecting Eragon and herself. "Than you're fulfilling your duty I suppose." He said, looking from one to the other. Brom stood up from his chair and motioned to them.

"That's Eragon." He said, motioning to the dragon rider himself. Eragon nodded to Jeod in greeting. Fay was surprised, telling such a man of his name. But than she remembered that Brom and Jeod were all buddy-buddy.

Than Jeod looked to her, "And the girl?" he said starting to really look at her, and he looked surprised, "Is she one of our friends?" he asked him, looking at her with wonder. "Her name is Fay. I'm not sure if she is though." Brom replied. "She doesn't remember anything of her past, and yet you can see a resemblance when looking at her."

Jeod nodded, "But not quite the same."

"No, not quite."

Lyre felt her impatience burst, She narrowed her eyes at them "What are you talking about!? Saying things about me when I don't even understand it!" she said, shouting angrily at them. What the hell were they talking about!? Than she immediately wanted to take her words back. Her back straightened quickly, and she bit her lips nervously.

Jeod bowed his head to her, "I apologize. I shouldn't have been speaking to you like that." He said. _Clever_, she thought, _Apologizes, but makes no move to tell me what the hell you're talking about. _She thought angrily. She had to hold her tongue though if she wanted them to keep her.

"No. I should be the one to apologize." She said bitterly as she turned her head away from them, her cloak covering her face from their eyes.

They continued to speak, and she listened intently to what they said, Eragon's uncle being murdered. Already known. Seithr oil? Rang a bell somewhere in her mind. Lyre realized she didn't need to listen. She read the book, right? Than why did she feel like she hadn't? What a strange feeling. Maybe she was drifting even farther into sleep or something. Though this was an incredibly long dream...

She dazed off for a few moments, before Brom said "Fay, Eragon, could you go check on the horses?"

Eragon jumped out of him chair impatietently, his ever growing grimace turning into rage as he stormed out of the room. She sighed, and moved away from them, walking quickly to the door. She could understand Eragon's hissy fit. No knowing what you should know is horrible.

When she came out into the sunlight, she saw Eragon stroke the horses neck impatiently. She heard him quickly whisper, "Thverr stenr un atra eka horna.". She recognized it as the ancient language. What was he doing? Shouldn't she know what he was doing..? She searched her mind for an answer and turned up with empty hands.

Eragon was listening intently, not registering that she was there. Lyre leaned onto the doors stone frame, and crossed her arms and legs. Every few moments his face would light up cheerfully, looking intensively interested. Wasn't he listening with magic at this part? It looked like it. But what did were they saying? Was this a side affect of being sucked into a book? Memory loss?

After a minute or two, he looked like he was back in this world, "What is going on?" he mumbled to himself.

"I don't know. You seem to know more than I do." Lyre said, relaxing her arms to her sides, standing upright on her own. His turned his face to her faster than she expected him too. "When did you get here!? I thought you were still inside?" he asked, his face looking like he had murdered someone.

I snickered, unabashed of my harassment. "Awhile." I said, giving him a short answer. His face hardened. He doesn't appreciate my sense of humor I guess.

I laughed it off, "It isn't like I'm going to tell him you were eavesdropping." I said, waving him away. I turned my face back up to him, my spring colored orbs mischievous, "That is if you tell me everything you heard." His eyes narrowed. "Witch." he murmured stormily.

"That's a yes, right?" I asked him with an overly cheery smile.

"Aye." He replied, as I spotted Brom and Jeod's torchlight bobbing in the hallway.

_-_-_-_

Jeod ushered Brom and herself into a large study, much like the room in the castle, this one was piled high with books. She smiled happily as she stepped inside. Jeod noticed her obvious happiness, and asked her, "Do you know how to read?"

She nodded, "More than that. I love to read." she said, walking to one of the shelves, telling herself not to squeal when she realized that not only did that speak in her language, but wrote in it too.

Brom frowned, "Have you remembered anything of your past."

Lyre had to force her body not to go rigid. She slowly turned her head around, right than she forced herself to believe that she really was Fay. Lyre didn't exist. With a sad smile, and forlorn eyes she said "I guess you don't forget the things you love the most." before turning her attention back to the books, Lyre once again. The room was silent for a moment, as if they were thinking it over.

Jeod broke the silence, "It seems Fay, and that you have given us all something to think on." he said gently, sympathizing with her. "I hope your memory returns soon."

Lyre felt a small pang in her heart. She felt bad for lying to them. Jeod obviously felt for her. The nice old man deserved more than lies.

Her long tapering fingers skimmed the assortment of spines. Lyre's fingers were longer than most girls, and skinny too. She rolled her eyes at such idiotic thoughts .What did it matter if her hands were big. She pulled down a large (Unbelievably heavy) book of poetry, and walked to a table, loosing herself in the words.

_-_-_-_

In what didn't seem like that much time, Eragon unlatched the heavy oak door, and let himself in. "Ah, here you are. We were getting worried about you. How was your walk?" Brom asked good-naturedly. I frowned, what put him in such good spirits?

"The guards almost locked me outside of the city, and I had a hard time finding this house, but either way, it was fine." He replied, giving a report wrung of any detail. I decided not to follow the conversation. I guessed that if I kept forgetting things at the rate I was, than this laziness would differentially be my downfall. I skimmed the poetry, until one sentence caught my attention, and loosing myself in it.

"I can't read." Eragon, lowering his head and looking ashamed.

"You can't read!?" I asked,stating the obvious, my head shooting up from the large tome.

The blood rushed to Eragon's face as he looked at me with pleading eyes. Oh. Well that must have embarrassed him even further. Oops.

"Well that sets us back..." Brom said disappointedly, causing Eragon ever more grief, meekly avoiding everyones eyes.

"Didn't Garrow ever teach you?" he asked Eragon.

Eragon's eyes widened, "Garrow could read?" he asked him with wonder.

Brom grimaced, "The proud fool. He must have thought it an unnecessary luxury."

I sat their, looking at Eragon with a gaping mouth and raised eyebrows. Brom narrowed his eyes at me and said, "If you think it's such a damn shame, than why don't you teach him how to read?" he asked rudely.

Well. Well, I'm not having that, "Well then I guess I will!" I said, eyes flashing lividly. Brom smiled victoriously, and my face fell. He had won the battle. He didn't have to waste his time teaching Eragon to read. The sinful bastard.

"Good. Why don't you start now?"

_-_-_-_

The next morning, Lyre woke up in a house that wasn't her own.

"Gah!" she screeched as she rocketed out of bed. She looked around wildly, before the conclusion finally dawned on her. _Oh. I'm still here._ She thought to herself, as she scooted her body over to the side of the bed, and forced herself out from the covers.

On the (Surprisingly not rickety) side table there was a bowl and a rag. She guessed the rag was to wash herself with, so she stripped down, and wiped off all the grime of her three day journey. Three days. She had been here for three days.

Chances were smaller than a woman on slim fast (Ah ha ha…) that she was going back.

Right after she put her clothes back on, someone rapped their knuckles on the door, "Come in." she said as she crossed her belt around her waist, and tightened it appropriately. A good looking woman with pale blond hair (Like herself) opened the door.

"Hello, I'm Jeod's wife, Helen." the pretty lady said politely as she stood at the door. She was named after Helen, the face that launched a thousand ships. She examined her. Perhaps she could only launch one or two, she was pretty enough. "Jeod asked me to make you feel welcome." Helen said with a level voice as she looked at her expectantly.

Lyre nodded, "Good morning." She said to her, returning the greeting, "It's nice to meet you, I'm Fay." she said, as she held out her hand for her to shake. Helen looked at her hand for a moment, like she might have a disease, before crossing the floor to shake her hand courteously.

She looked down to her clothes, "Would you like me to get you something else?" she said, eyeing my humble attire. I than noticed what she wore. I didn't even know what too call half of it. Everything looked expensive and shiny, and she reminded me of walking into the classroom and looking at all the girls in the back left corner, who would wear all those brand name clothes, and designer apparel. You know the ones who had all the tall, good looking boyfriends? But not the right hand corner. That's where Lyre sat, or rather slept.

She confined a blush that threatened to escape. "Err; I would very much appreciate that." She said nervously as she plucked on her tunic's seams. Helen nodded, and turned her back on Lyre as she promptly left the room. _Am I supposed to follow? Might as well find out…_ She thought as she rushed out the room, chasing after Jeod's wife.

After scrambling around awhile, Lyre noticing the lack of servants, they entered the room through a large mahogany door, framed by a intricately carved door frame, outlined in roses and the likes. It practically screamed "RICH!" No. Not practically. It did. I wonder how wealthy they are...? Oh! The joys of a plushy life...!

Once they entered the room, she realized what was really going on. They were drug dealers. How else could they cough up this much cash? It was impossible! Really, is it even legal to own this much molah? Their pocket money must be gold!

While she was feeling completely, and undeniably jealous of this woman, they entered a long hallway. By hallway, I mean closet. I exaggerate. It was probably the size of an apartments hallway, and filled with pretty dresses. Silk, velvet, and jewels were the main theme for this room. It looked pretty imposing.

Are you kidding me though?

Helen rummaged in the back a little bit, before pulling out a pale green silk, with golden accents. She smiled, "I used to fit this when I was a girl. I don't know why I kept it." She said, before trailing off, looking into space. She misses her girlhood? Seemed so.

"Thank you." She said politely. Helen lady left, so Lyre undressed, and slipped (Literally) into the silken coverings. They were soft, I'll tell you that. Once she was done, she slunk out of the closet, and entered the (Rich) master bedroom.

Helen smiled, "It brings out your eyes." She said in a friendly manner, as she latched onto her arm, and led her out the door._ Why is she being so friendly all of a sudden? I don't get it. _The world may never understand the strange ways of rich women. Perhaps she looked less peasant like when dressed in fine clothing?

Or perhaps she looked nice in general. She liked that one.

_-_-_-_

_I've been through a lot in the last few days, but his is truly, and completely ridiculous._

Lyre wasn't quite sure if she should be happy, or hang herself with Kindergarten craft string. "So A makes an OH sound, is that correct Fay?" Eragon asked her, as he rubbed the age of his feather quill against his the curve of his jaw.

Lyre shook her head, trying not to be impatient. "No Eragon. That's the letter O." She said, as she angrily scratched out the letter A, a sign that gave away how cross she was. Eragon squinted, and scratched his neck timidly (Or maybe he was annoyed too. Knowing him, it could be). "I'm sorry Fay, I'll try harder."

Lyre, or rather Fay, shook her head and sighed. "No. It's not your fault." Here she was, teaching a dragon rider how to read, and all she wanted was to smother him with a pillow. She could imagine it too. It would be so satisfying.

"_Now Eragon, tell me what sound an L makes." She said in a motherly tone, as Eragon struggled against the bleached feather pillow, "Ummf! Ummf!" He groaned as he attempted to throw her off, "No Eragon, that's a combination of U, M, and F. Let's try this again."_

She giggled a little, suffocating it with the palm of her hand. Ha ha… Suffocate. Eragon looked at her with and expression that said 'Do we need to take a break?' She smiled waved him off, "No, no, it's nothing, let's continue." He nodded, wondering if he should intervene. He decided to continue.

They kept at it for awhile, before Brom interrupted them. "We've constructed a plan to find what you need Eragon." He said sternly, focusing on the dragon rider himself.

Her fading memory informed her that this was supposed to be interesting.

**Review and you get cheese puffs**


	5. Author's Note

_Authors Note:_

_To those who read my story, you're probably wondering what the hell happened to me. Well you see, my dear friends, I have lost the Eragon book. And I don't remember what happens next... Ah ha ha ha.... Haaa... So yes, unless someone can buy me a new copy, I find it, or, SOMEONE TELLS ME THE WHOLE PLAN IN A VERY DETAILED WAY, all is lost..._

_So yes. Help the author~!_


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